


Three Unfinished SGA Stories

by Mira



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-26
Updated: 2007-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira/pseuds/Mira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Three never-to-be finished SGA stories</p>
    </blockquote>





	Three Unfinished SGA Stories

**Author's Note:**

> Three never-to-be finished SGA stories

First, a story in which I wrote myself into a corner from which I couldn't escape.  
 _Silence_

Rodney's silence drew John's attention. He looked up from where he was watching Teyla negotiate for the wonderful pastries the people nearest the stargate made. Atlantis didn't have a lot to offer, but they were willing to do a great deal for a steady supply of these, especially the ones filled with custard.

John first thought that Rodney fell silent due to stuffing another pastry in his mouth, but the quality of the silence was different -- more sudden, for one thing; Rodney tended to trail off, talking through his food before the flavor overwhelmed him. But this was a heavier silence as well, laden with meaning that John couldn't decode. He raised his head, then pulled his sidearm and sprinted to Rodney's side.

"What the fuck have you done!" he shouted at the woman standing in front of Rodney. Her arms were crossed and she stared up at him, watching him closely. John grabbed Rodney's arm. "You okay, buddy? What's wrong?" Rodney was beet red, his eyes wide and very blue against his ruddy skin and bloodshot eyes. A bit of custard clung to his cheek. He shook his head, his mouth working, but John could hear nothing. "Rodney," he whispered.

He turned and grabbed the woman, pushing her up and back. She cried out; she at least could still speak. "Colonel!" he heard Teyla call, but he focused on the woman. "What did you do? What's going on?"

"Colonel," Teyla said again. Her voice was low and calm, in a way John recognized. He looked around and saw that the inhabitants had all drawn weapons on him, a mixed collection of small stun weapons, spears, something like his Beretta, all pointed at him.

"I just want to know what she did to Rodney," he said, slowly releasing the woman.

"Go," someone said. John twisted around until he found a skinny man glaring at him. "Leave. Now. Just go."

"No fucking way," he said. "Not until I know what's going on." The man gestured, and suddenly all the weapons were pointed at Teyla and Ronon. "You son of a bitch," John said, but Rodney grabbed him and shook his head. He mouthed, "No, no," or maybe, "Go, go," but not even a whisper reached John's ears.

John stood for a moment in Rodney's grasp, breathing slowly, studying the situation. He relaxed. "Teyla, Ronon. Take Rodney back to the jumper. Dial the gate and tell them we need a doctor in the gateroom." He pulled Rodney's hands off him, holding them for a moment. "Go with them," he said to Rodney, speaking more clearly than usual even as he realized that Rodney was mute, not deaf.

After another silent pause, the others lowered their weapons. Teyla hurried to them and took Rodney's hand. "Rodney?"

Rodney stared at John, his eyebrows drawn together. He shook his head, bit his lip, and then retreated with Teyla. Ronon stayed until John pointed at Rodney; he followed.

When the three had passed out of the village and into the trail through the forest, John pointed his Beretta at the woman again. "Listen to me well," he said to her, aware that the entire village was listening and ready to kill him. "You will tell me what you did to my friend and you will tell me how to fix it."

"This woman is sacred to us," the man said. John's aim never wavered; he stared into the woman's eyes, silently telling her just how serious he was. "Do not harm her, and we will not harm you." For long seconds, John remained motionless. " She has given your friend a great gift," the man finally said.

"He needs to be able to speak," John finally said. He took a deep breath. "Dr. McKay needs to be able to communicate with us."

"He can. He will. But not in words."

"Okay, see, that's the problem, and you need to fix it."

"Come back," the man said. He gestured, and John saw the others lower their guns and spears and bows. "In the cycle of a woman you may return."

"Will Rodney be able to talk?"

"Go."

John hated this. Fucking freaky alien cultures he couldn't understand, couldn't bully, couldn't blow away. He holstered his weapon and walked away without saying another word. Behind him, he heard the low murmur of the people talking, but fuck 'em. He had his own people to care for.

The gate was open when he arrived at the jumper. Rodney was in the passenger's seat. He looked fine, although still pink in the face. "Can you talk?" John asked him point-blank. Rodney shook his head. "When we get back, you're going to write out exactly what you were doing, what that old lady did. Get Carson to fix you up." Rodney rolled his eyes. "Did you guys see anything?" John asked Ronon and Teyla.

Teyla said, "I was not observing Dr. McKay."

Ronon said, "He was eating."

"Well, I knew that. Did he insult that woman? Steal a pastry from her?" John was trying to keep his questions light, but he still felt the weight of what happened on him.

"Perhaps we should discuss this on our return to Atlantis," Teyla said, which was as nice a way to tell John to get moving as he'd ever heard. He lifted the jumper up and through the gate, rejoicing in its lightness.

Carson was waiting for them. "What's happened, then?" he asked. John let Rodney climb out of the jumper before following him. "Colonel? Rodney?"

John felt a sudden rush of rage again. He tightened his mouth, refusing to speak. Ronon said, "They did something to McKay."

"What? Rodney, can you walk? What's happened to you?"

Rodney remained resolutely silent, not even gesturing.

Elizabeth said, "Rodney? John, what's going on?"

His reluctance to speak was childish, John knew, so he took a deep breath and forced himself to answer Elizabeth and Carson. "I don't know. We were just standing there, trying to figure out what we could offer them in exchange for their bread, when suddenly Rodney was quiet."

Carson's eyebrows raised. "Ah, I'm not sure I follow. He was eating, Ronon said. Doesn't that imply he was quiet?"

"No, it was -- I don't know. But I knew something was wrong. Teyla, did you know something was wrong."

"Rodney had been, ah, making sounds of pleasure at the taste of the pastries," Teyla finally said.

"They're good," Ronon added.

Carson scratched at the stubble on his chin, and then returned his attention to Rodney. "So you can't speak at all?" Rodney just looked at him. "Well, come along, then, if you can walk. All of you into the infirmary."

Elizabeth said, "I'm coming to. I want to find out exactly what happened."

Once in the infirmary, Carson tried to have John wait with Teyla and Ronon, and Elizabeth wanted to know in detail what had happened. "Let them tell you first," John said. "I'm staying with Rodney." Carson and Elizabeth exchanged looks, but said nothing as John followed Rodney into a cubicle.

"Now, Rodney, sit here," Carson said, patting the gurney. Rodney obediently sat on it; John stood next to him. "So. Can you say anything at all? Try. Say my name."

Rodney just looked at him.

"Does it hurt to open your mouth? Here, let me look inside." He held a tongue depressor in one hand and a little light in the other. "Say 'ahh.'"

Rodney obediently opened his mouth and Carson peered inside. "Superficial examination reveals nothing wrong. Not even a sore throat." He straightened up. "Can you move your tongue? Stick it out?" Rodney did both. "But you cannot speak." Rodney didn't do anything. "Can you shrug? Like this?" Carson lifted his shoulders. Rodney remained motionless.

"Here, Rodney." John handed him a pen and a pad with Carson's scrawl on it. "Write what happened."

Rodney stared at the pen. John gestured with it, then lay it against the palm of his hand. Rodney wrapped his fingers around it, but made no attempt to write.

" _Can_ you write?" Carson asked. He was frowning now. "Can you type? Here, bring me my laptop," he told John, who hurried out of the cubicle and past the others, all clearly eavesdropping. He picked up the laptop on Carson's desk, unplugging it, carried it back, and tried to set it in Rodney's lap.

"Come on," he said, balancing the laptop on Rodney's knees. "Grab it. Type. You type like a maniac, remember?"

But Rodney just sat there, looking mildly unhappy, but making no attempt to poke at the keyboard. He dropped the pen, which rolled across the laptop and onto the floor. "Doc," John said. He felt ready to throw the laptop across the room; Carson must have seen that because he rescued it and set it on a table behind him.

"I don't know, John. It's not like anything I've seen before. Frankly, I think Dr. Heightmeyer should see Rodney."

"Rodney, goddammit, come on," John said. He pushed against Rodney, holding Rodney's shoulders, looking into his face. "Do you remember talking? Can you nod? Shake your head no?" But Rodney continued to sit quietly, looking more and more worried. "Fuck."

"Quite," Carson said. "Elizabeth?"

"Yes," she said, putting her head around the curtain separating them.

"What do Teyla and Ronon say?"

She pushed back the curtain; John saw the infirmary was full of nurses and even a couple of Marines, all listening. "Teyla?"

Teyla stepped forward, looking into Rodney's eyes. "We saw nothing. He was eating a pastry when I looked up for a moment. I was trying to come to an agreement as to how much labor we would offer in exchange for a regular supply of their bread and pastry when the colonel suddenly shouted. Weapons were pulled, until the colonel instructed Ronon and me to return Dr. McKay to the jumper. I saw and heard nothing else."

"Me, neither," Ronon said. "Just him eating, and then a bunch of shouting."

"John?" Elizabeth asked softly. "What did you see?"

"I don't know," John said. He looked into Rodney's face. "I don't remember. I was listening to Teyla, and trying to figure out how many people we could offer to help with their harvest and then the planting. Then I heard something -- no, I mean I heard _nothing_. I just knew something was wrong. I looked up and saw Rodney's face. He was all . . . red. And quiet." John shook his head. "Oh, they told me to bring him home, and then to return in a month. I mean, in the cycle of a woman, which I assume is a month. Because, uh, well." He looked at Carson.

"I would make the same assumption," Carson said. "Return in a month and they'll fix Rodney?"

"They said that they'd given Rodney a great gift. But they never answered when I kept asking if he could talk." John wrapped his hand over his forehead.

"Do you have a headache, Colonel?" Carson asked him.

"Wouldn't you? If your teammate suddenly stopped talking and showed no understanding of writing or typing? Especially if it was your _genius_ teammate?" Rodney smiled vaguely at John. "Oh my god. Can he even understand us? Is he, like, brain damaged?"

"He knew to open his mouth," Carson pointed out, and Rodney glared. "I think his mind is fine. He just can't communicate in speech, gesture, or writing."

"I told them," John said quickly, "I really emphasized to them that Rodney needs to be able to communicate."

"I'm not sure what to say," Carson said, patting Rodney's knee. "He seems in perfect health. Just his usual borderline hypertension. We'll keep him tonight, run all the scans we can, but right now? I don't think there's much I can do for him. I will call Kate, though. She needs to be aware of this."

'"I'll call her," Elizabeth said. "You proceed with your tests. I'd like you to test John, Teyla, and Ronon as well. See if there's something in their blood. I'm especially concerned about John."

She and Carson looked at each other again; John felt as though they were silently, wordlessly talking about him. He leaned against Rodney. He felt cranky and out of sorts, and it was a good thing Carson had moved the laptop or maybe he _would_ have thrown it across the room. "You okay, buddy?" he asked Rodney again, hoping for an answer this time, even if only an annoyed glare, but Rodney just looked at him, mild as milk, as his grandma used to say. He shook his head. As if the Rodney McKay he knew had ever been mild. "That old lady threw some kind of hex on you, didn't they," he said, still studying Rodney's face. "What the hell did you do to her?"

The old Rodney would have instantly, loudly, and vociferously defended himself, cast aspersions on the old lady and her entire village, and demanded apologies and groveling. This Rodney just looked at John.

"Colonel?" Carson said, startling him. "Nurse Beckwith will take some blood, and then I'll run a few scans, so . . ."

He nodded and moved away from Rodney. Then he turned. "I'll be right here," he said, a little embarrassed.

Rodney just looked at him.

Carson found nothing, of course, though he did keep Rodney overnight. Elizabeth called a meeting after dinner, with Teyla, Ronon, Carson, Kate, and John, in which the three who'd been on the planet told and re-told their stories until John was ready to go back right then. "A woman's cycle," Elizabeth reminded him.

"We need to know what she did to Rodney," John pointed out, feeling obvious and wondering why Elizabeth didn't get it. "He can't talk. Elizabeth, this is Rodney McKay sitting silently. Not yelling at us for not fixing him. Not calling us morons for taking him to that planet in the first place. If he can't be here to, to act as his own advocate --"

"Then you'll call us morons for him?" she finished, raising an eyebrow, but John refused to back down.

"Yes, if that's what it takes. I don't understand how you all can be so calm."

"I'm not calm," Carson said. "Believe me, Colonel, I'm as worried as you are. I've known Rodney longer than you, and I've never seen him like this. Never in all our years of friendship has he sat quietly in the infirmary and let me poke and prod him.

"I'm just reluctant, in light of what you tell us, to risk another team returning to the place where this happened. You sound very certain that you were told to return in a month."

"Hell, I don't know. I was a bit preoccupied seeing as how every weapon in the village was pointed at me. It couldn't hurt to go back and check."

"Actually, I agree with John. I do think we should go back. I'm going to ask Major Lorne to take his team, though. And to be very, very careful."

"Elizabeth --"

"No, John. You may not realize it, but you're not acting quite yourself any more than Rodney is. I want you to stay in Atlantis until this is resolved."

"Shit," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. At least she was sending someone back. He'd talk to Lorne before he left, make sure he understood the danger he was walking into. "All right. All right."

"Thank you, John. I'm as worried about you as I am Rodney."

"Aye, you do seem a bit off," Carson said. He glanced at his watch. "It's late, and you've had an exhausting day. Go to bed, Colonel. Come see me after breakfast."

"Rodney --"

"All right, then. Come before breakfast and you can go with him."

That wasn't what John had been going to say, but from the set of both Carson's and Elizabeth's jaw, he knew that was all he'd get. Teyla and Ronon were both staring at him as well.

He stopped by the lab on the way to his quarters, to let Radek know what had happened, but the news preceded him. "So he's brain-damaged?" he heard Kavanagh say. "Finally, the truth comes out."

"You asshole," he said, leaning against the door, crossing his arms, looking as dangerous as he knew how to. "Say that to McKay's face."

Kavanagh scowled at him but didn't reply, just powered down his workstation.

"Come with me," Radek said to Kavanagh. "I want to say goodnight to Rodney. And Colonel, I have heard that you should be resting."

John couldn't think of a suitable reply, so he glowered at Kavanagh a bit more before pushing away from the wall and heading on to his bed. He was tired, and unusually angry for him. Rodney was the angry one; that was how their partnership had developed. Maybe now that he was so placid, John would have to get angry for him. He felt more than capable of assuming that responsibility.

Elizabeth did invite John to Lorne's debriefing. "Some old guy with frizzy hair was kneading bread when we got there," Lorne told them. "Nobody else. He said that he'd told the colonel to come back in the cycle of a woman. I asked if that meant a month, but he just looked at me like I was an idiot." Lorne shrugged. "We did ask about Dr. McKay, but no one would give us a straight answer."

"I did bring back some of the pastries," Dr. Parrish said. "I'll run some tests to see if there's anything in them that would stop him from talking. There are some plants that will render humans mute if they're eaten; perhaps one of the ingredients in the pastry does that."

"Excellent work," Elizabeth said.

"Jesus, Lorne," John said. "Didn't you find out anything useful?"

"I'm sorry, Colonel. I tried. But there wasn't anyone else around, just that old guy. He said to come back in a month. And that the old lady had given Dr. McKay a great gift."

"Well, I can't see what gift it could be," Carson said. "I suppose to us, that we don't have to listen to the man whinge for a month. But that's hardly kind of me, or even true."

Kate said, "I met with Dr. McKay this morning, but he appears to be completely unable to communicate. I've never seen anything like it except after a violent car crash. That person was severely brain-damaged, though, and I don't think Dr. McKay is in the least. Not that I have any way to prove it."

"What if this is it?" John burst out. "What if he never gets well? What will we do?"

"Send him home on the _Daedalus_ ," Carson said. "We can't care for him here, not on any long term basis. He would have to go back to his sister."

"Go back? It sounds like you're returning damaged goods to the store, Carson."

"I don't mean it like that at all, John, as you well know."

"You must try to restrain your temper, Colonel," Elizabeth said, and from the look on Lorne's face, John knew he was thinking the same thing.

"Well, sorry if the sudden mutilation of a friend and valued colleague doesn't seem to warrant any distress on the part of his -- you know what? Forget it." John rose, but then instantly felt foolish. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I'm going to go see Rodney."

"I released him from the infirmary," Carson said. "He's in his quarters."

John went straight there. "Hey," he said as the door slid open. "How you doing?"

Rodney didn't answer. He sat on his bed, biting his lip, staring at John.

"It's boring in here. Let's get out, go for a walk. How's that sound?" He reached out his hand, but Rodney continued to sit. "Come on, Rodney." He pulled Rodney to his feet and out the door. "How about that balcony we found a couple months ago, the one high up?" He led Rodney to a transporter and touched the map. "I like it there," he said to himself.

The wind was sharp up so high, and they could see whitecaps on the water surrounding Atlantis. Toward the east, clouds were rushing into the south. "Look, a squall," John said, pointing. "You can almost see the rain on the water." It was, he thought, very beautiful. The air smelled fresh up here, salty and sweet at the same time. He breathed deeply, and heard Rodney take a deep breath as well.

He stayed with Rodney till dinner, which they shared, and then walked him back to his quarters. "I don't think I've ever talked this much in one day," he told Rodney. "Weird. Maybe they hexed me, too." They stared at one another, and then John gently pushed Rodney into his rooms. "Night."

He stood watching the door close, and then stood a while longer, wondering what Rodney was doing.

The days seem to slow down for John. He was essentially grounded; Elizabeth wouldn't even let him fly to the mainland, and since Rodney couldn't or wouldn't work, he took him with him on his rounds. He carried his laptop with him back to the high balcony and sat there to get caught up in his paperwork while Rodney watched the ocean or the clouds or the seabirds flying past. Once there were sea animals like porpoises or dolphins leaping through the water far below; they hung over the railing and watched them, John wishing he could take his surfboard out.

At first, he filled the unusual quiet with words, but he was naturally a reticent man, and apparently he hadn't been hexed because after a few days, he found it more comfortable to sit in silence with Rodney at his side. Rodney quickly began to follow him, a silent shadow; he waited, squatting at one side of the mat, when John sparred with Teyla or Ronon. At the armory and later at the firing range. In John's office, in Elizabeth's, in Kate's. Everywhere that John went, Rodney seemed happy to accompany him. He paid no attention to what was happening around him, nor to anyone's words. He wore a vague, pleasant look; John thought he looked as though he were listening to distant music.

The month went by more quickly than John had anticipated. "Thirty or thirty-one days?" Elizabeth had asked. Carson had voted for twenty-eight, which John seconded, but they compromised on thirty. On the thirtieth day, both John's and Lorne's teams suited up and returned to the planet of the pastries.

The entire village was present again, and the smell of baking filled the air. Ronon's stomach growled loudly, and even Teyla sniffed appreciatively. "This is a good planet," Lorne said happily. Only John seemed to remember that something was wrong with Rodney.

The old lady was there, with her basket of baked goods, smiling at them. "Oh no," John said. "We're not falling for that again. What the hell are in those things?"

"You have returned," the old man said, startling John. "All is forgiven."

John looked expectantly at Rodney, who continued to smile. He didn't even look particularly interested in the custard pastries. "What's wrong with him? It's been thirty days, I mean, the time of a woman's cycle. Why isn't he talking?"

"It was a great gift," the old man said. "Perhaps he is not ready to relinquish it."

"What? What are -- What?"

"Colonel," Lorne said, stepping close to John. "Did he ever say that Dr. McKay would talk again?"

John knew the answer was no; he knew that Lorne knew that. He remained silent, sullenly watching the villagers.

Teyla and Parrish traded fish and a special clay that could be used to line ovens for more of the bread. Ronon loomed over them. Lorne stayed near John and Rodney, watching them uneasily.

When negotiations were concluded, John tried one final time. He took the old man aside, speaking gently to him. "Please help my friend," he said, resting his hand on the old man's arm. "Please. He has important work to do, work that cannot be done in silence."

"He must return the gift," was all the man would say.

"Colonel," Lorne called after him, tense.

"Yeah. Let's go." John took Rodney's arm and led him back to the puddle jumper. He remained as silent as Rodney on the flight home, letting Lorne take it while he sat in the back with Rodney.

"I assume nothing happened," Carson said. He'd been waiting for them in the gateroom, with Elizabeth. John shrugged. "Rodney? Old friend, will you not speak to me?"

But Rodney didn't even notice Carson. He was watching John, which made John happy, because he wanted Rodney to pay attention to him; what could be better than having all of Rodney's formidable intellect focused on him? Except this wasn't the Rodney John knew. Not anymore.

"I don't think he even remembers that he used to speak," John said. Rodney met his eyes, then touched John's face. John resisted the temptation to jerk away, and let Rodney's fingers stroke along his cheek, his chin, then lightly touch his lips before drawing back. "It's been a month, Carson," he said.

"I know. I know," Carson said, and took Rodney's hand. "Come with me. Another check-up, for all the good they've done you."

The others stood in the enormous room watching Carson lead Rodney away. Elizabeth said, "Major Lorne? Did you see anything?"

"No, ma'am. Nothing. The old lady never said a word, and the old man just says that Dr. McKay's silence is a gift. The other people don't talk about it, even when you ask them point blank."

"It is true," Teyla said. "Ronon and I asked every person we saw, but they did not respond."

Elizabeth shook her head. "If something doesn't happen, we'll have to send him home. We can't care for him in this condition."

John wanted to protest Elizabeth's decision, but he knew she was right. There was no work for Rodney here if he couldn't communicate. He'd go home, back to Earth, presumably to his sister. John didn't think the old Rodney would like that. The new Rodney might be perfectly happy.

The debriefing took only a few minutes. John thought about going by the infirmary afterwards, but the thought of seeing a silent Rodney wasn't appealing. He went to his quarters to change for a run. The city was huge, and he knew he'd never see all of it no matter how long he lived here, but it was so beautiful that he kept trying. He took a transporter to a distant wing and began the long run back.

He was exhausted long before he neared his quarters; drenched with sweat and his feet aching, he walked to the nearest transporter. He had work to do. He'd pissed and moaned enough about Rodney. He'd go back to that planet, talk to them one final time, and then say goodbye. He wouldn't be leaving Rodney behind; if anything, Rodney was leaving him. Had left him.

In his quarters, he kicked off his shoes and clothing, shivering as he peeled the sweaty tee-shirt off, tossing everything into a corner. He showered a long time, letting the hot water pound his shoulders and back. He needed a long soak in a hot tub, but so far they hadn't found one in Atlantis. Maybe Rodney could build him one.

He shut off the water at that thought. Rodney couldn't do anything for him now.

Still dripping, he walked into his darkened room, rubbing vigorously at his face and hair. Sighing, he flipped the towel around to dry his back then pulled it in front of him again. "Shit," he sighed. Rodney was sitting on the bed, dressed only in a tee-shirt and baggy striped boxers. "I could have shot you, Rodney," John told him. "What's wrong? Why are you here?" He dressed quickly, pulling on his boxers and black tee, but when he shook out his trousers, Rodney lay down, drawing his legs up onto the bed.

John couldn't misunderstand that gesture: Rodney wanted to stay. He sat next to Rodney. "Are you okay? Are you sick?" Feeling stupid, he rested the back of his hand on Rodney's forehead, the way his mom had done when he was little, but Rodney didn't feel especially hot, or cold for that matter. He just felt like Rodney. "You wanna stay here?"

Rodney never answered, of course. He hadn't spoken in almost six weeks. John knew it to the hour. He stared down at Rodney, trying to figure out what to do. "I'm gonna go back to that planet," he finally said. "I won't let anything happen to you." Well, that was a big lie, he thought. He sighed, and lay down next to Rodney. The bed was small, about the size of an old-fashioned double bed, and they were both big men, so their knees touched, and John could feel Rodney's breath on his face. "What a fucking nightmare," he said, and shut his eyes. He knew Rodney was watching him in the dim light. Without opening his eyes, John began to talk. "I miss you, you son of a bitch," he whispered in the dark. "I miss your big mouth and your arrogance and your laugh. God, I miss your laugh. I miss walking through fields on other planets with you, talking about the social sciences or voodoo or M-theory or ice hockey or capital punishment or any damn thing. I miss teaching you how to fly a puddlejumper, and how to reload your Beretta . . ." He sighed again.

He could feel Rodney's slow, even breathing and the warmth from his body; Rodney smelled like the same soap and deodorant that John used, the same detergent on his clothes. They worked together so closely; even now, now that Rodney was silent and John stuck in Atlantis, they spent their days together, Rodney his shadow. Or maybe he was Rodney's shadow. John wasn't sure.

He twisted, trying to find a comfortable position without poking Rodney in his kidneys, but no matter how he lay, some part of his body was in contact with Rodney's. He gave up and scooted closer, letting Rodney's arm come around his waist, and rested his head on Rodney's shoulder. This shouldn't feel so good, he thought. This was wrong. But it was comfortable. More than that, it was comforting.

John slept.

When he woke, wrapped in Rodney's hot embrace, he instantly remembered the night before. He smiled to himself, hiding his smile in his pillow, before turning around. "Morning," he said. Rodney opened his eyes, gummy with sleep, and smacked his lips. "Um," John said. "Don't suppose you can talk?" Rodney yawned silently, and scratched his head. "Guess not." John was disappointed. For a moment, he'd really thought Rodney would speak.

* * *

  


Second, a story I had to stop working because I felt it was too similar to another, very popular SGA story.  
 _Memories_

Sheppard grabbed McKay and jerked him back a step. "Let's discuss this," he said mildly, though Ronon saw by his muscle tension how furious he was.

"Colonel," McKay said, trying to pull away. "Colonel, this is my decision --"

"I don't think so," he said. "Giving up your memories? What good will you be to us if you don't remember who you are?"

"Forgive me, Colonel," the Asha said, bowing slightly. "I was unclear. Doctor McKay will of course remember who he is. He will remember all his skills and will retain all his abilities. But memories of his life will remain with us." He smiled, and Ronon tensed. "An equitable exchange for the object he so desires."

Ronon glanced at Teyla, who was watching McKay and Sheppard as intently as they were staring at each other. He didn't like this. Stupid, stupid of McKay even to consider it. "My decision," McKay repeated. Sheppard shook his head, but Ronon could tell he was weakening.

He pushed between them and said into McKay's face, "Your memories are all you have. Don't do this. We don't need it bad enough."

McKay frowned at him. "I don't need your advice," he snapped. "The decision is made." He looked at the Asha. "I accept. My memories for the ZPM. As long as I can really retain my knowledge of how to use it . . ." he added more uncertainly.

"Come with us." The Asha turned and swept across the portico and into the temple. McKay followed, the others trailing, Ronon last. Inside the temple, at the far end, a circle of people stood watching them approach. "He has agreed," the Asha said, and they bowed.

"Where is it?" McKay asked. "Let me see it first."

The Asha nodded, and a younger acolyte slid through the crowd, disappearing behind the others before returning with the ZPM. McKay inhaled sharply and held out his hands. "Let me. Oh god, let it be charged."

"Can you test it?" Sheppard asked, frowning at it.

"Yeah, Zelenka and I, after the last time, worked up this, hang on, here, Colonel, hold this --" McKay shoved the ZPM into Sheppard's arms, then twisted to pull something from his backpack. "Here." He snapped the mechanism on the bottom of the ZPM, which pulsed orange once. "Almost half-charged." He looked into Sheppard's face. "It's worth it to me."

"Shit," Sheppard said, biting his lip and looking away from McKay. "Rodney, I can't -- we just can't do this."

"Colonel. Listen to me. This is a ZPM that's almost half-charged. Think what we can do with it. Shield Atlantis. Use the weapons. Protect ourselves and the Athosians. There's no choice." He turned to the Asha. "Let's do it."

The Asha stared somberly back and McKay, then rested one hand on McKay's shoulder and one on Sheppard's. "I understand your hesitancy, Colonel," he said. "I am sorry." McKay dropped soundlessly. Sheppard juggled the ZPM, trying to keep it and catch McKay, so Ronon seized his slack body and lowered him to the gleaming white floor of the temple.

This had happened too fast, Ronon thought, looking at Rodney's relaxed face. For once, there was no line between his eyebrows, no tension in his face at all. Even his mouth was softened. "He's breathing," Ronon said, resting a hand on McKay's chest. "Warm and breathing."

* * *

  


Finally, I signed up for the [Alien Altars Challenge](http://community.livejournal.com/alien_altars) but never finished it. I just couldn't figure out what happens next. This is the story I'm most disappointed about not finishing, but I started it in April 2007, so it's pretty obvious that's never gonna happen.

"They're what?" John turned to look at Teyla. "You're what? No way. I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but as military commander of Atlantis, I'm saying no way. _No way_."

"John," Elizabeth said in her cajoling voice, putting her hand on his forearm. "You must see it's the only way. A day or two --"

"A week," Rodney interrupted sourly.

"A few days and we'll be back and all will be well. We need this, and Teyla and I need to do this."

John stared at her, and then at Teyla, who raised her chin and stared back. She knew John very well after all these years and, despite his acknowledgment of her abilities in both combat and negotiations, he had a tendency to want to push her behind him. It was not an endearing trait.

"Oh for god's sake," Rodney said. "It's ludicrous. It's bad enough that we have our military commander _and_ our chief science officer running around on first contact missions. Really, whose idea was that? But to send you out? Elizabeth, as bad as I am at this, at least I've had training and experience. At least Sheppard's made me practice with my weapons, and Ronon's chased me around Atlantis, and Teyla's taught me to fear her sticks."

"I deeply resent that," Elizabeth said. "Rodney, you of all people know how much experience I have in the field. I've negotiated in the most difficult and dangerous situations on Earth, and now out here in Pegasus. How can you belittle my experience and abilities?"

"We're not belittling anyone," John said, but Teyla had had enough.

"No, we are not," she said. "We are preparing for a delicate negotiation which requires both Elizabeth's and my presence. Do you have an alternative, John? Or shall we continue with our preparations?"

He opened his mouth but, as Teyla had known, he had no alternative to offer. None of them did. Ronon rolled his eyes and slapped John on the back. "Give it up," he said. "They can handle themselves."

"Thank you, Ronon," Elizabeth said, holding her head high. "John and Rodney, I wish you had more confidence in me."

"It's not you --" Rodney started, but Teyla wouldn't let him finish.

"Then it is I you have concerns about?"

"Uh, no," he said, his eyes widening. He took a step back. "God, no, Teyla."

"Very well," she said firmly. "We shall continue. John, I am sure you have work to do, and Rodney, you never fail to remind us how necessary your presence in the labs is."

"Uh," Rodney said again, and took another step back. John looked at Teyla for a long moment. She knew what he was trying to tell her: he trusted her, don't betray his trust, take care of herself and Elizabeth. She nodded her head once, and he left with Rodney and Ronon. She looked at Elizabeth.

"Well, that was unpleasant," she said in her light voice, but she smiled at Teyla. "Men."

"They are indeed," she said. "Now, are you prepared for the ceremonies?"

"Yes, completely. Thank you so much for agreeing to do this, Teyla."

"I am happy to, Elizabeth. We need the support of the Luthuli if we are to persuade the Rucken to be our allies. Trade with them has always been difficult, and now that the Athosians have allied with the Atlantians, I fear it will be more difficult."

"Because we woke the Wraith."

Teyla nodded and began walking Elizabeth to her quarters. "It is known through the galaxy, and the Genii under Cowan were responsible. But the Genii are changed, and Ladon has tried to make amends. Perhaps this will succeed."

Elizabeth sighed. They reached the door to her quarters and she awkwardly put her hands on Teyla's shoulders and bowed her head. Teyla bowed to her. "Sleep well," she murmured.

Teyla meditated for nearly an hour, then did what Elizabeth called her _asanas_ , stretching and breathing rhythmical, for another hour. Then she lay in her bed and remembered the last time she had traded with the Rucken. She had been with Sora then, and a different person. They'd been young girls, happy to be on such an adventure. Now she would be with Elizabeth, who did not yet understand the significance of the Ruckenwise. Sighing, Teyla rolled onto her side and determinedly shut her eyes. Tomorrow would be here soon enough; no need to chase the morning.

John was quiet when he saw them off through the Ancestor's Ring; still sulking, Teyla thought, but she embraced him in the Athosian way willingly enough, and felt him relax as they stood together. "Take care," he told her in his gruff way.

"You know I will," she said, and he finally grinned.

She looked at Elizabeth, who hitched her pack higher on her shoulders, and then stepped through the Ring, the familiar sensation of falling and freezing sweeping over her and just as suddenly ending. "Oh!" Elizabeth said when they stepped onto the crisp grass of the Luluthi world. "That will always be magic to me."

"Welcome, Teyla-sister," Sobrina said, grasping Teyla's hands. "It has been too long."

"I rejoice to see your smile," Teyla responded in the old style, making Sobrina laugh gently.

"And I rejoice to see yours," she replied. "Welcome back to Luluthi."

"Thank you. This is my friend, Elizabeth." She smiled at Elizabeth who approached them shyly. "Elizabeth, this is my old friend Sobrina."

"Elizabeth. You are Atlantian," Sobrina said, and Teyla thought she sounded less friendly.

"She is my _geynos_ ," Teyla said lightly.

Sobrina raised her eyebrows. "And a very pretty one, too," she said, but she bowed to Elizabeth this time. "Welcome to Luluthi."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said softly. "I am grateful that you permitted me to accompany Teyla."

"Well, you are her _geynos_ ," Sobrina said lightly, but Teyla saw something in her eyes. Teyla took Elizabeth's hand, and watched as Sobrina watched them. "Come with me to the village. All are anxious to see their old friend and new."

Sobrina strode away. Teyla glanced at Elizabeth, who seemed paler than usual, but she only smiled at Teyla and followed their guide, not releasing Teyla's hand.

The way was not long but wound through a stand of trees Teyla did not remember from her earlier visits. "Have you moved the village?" she asked Sobrina.

"The trees? No, the village has not moved but the trees did. One morning we woke up to find them here. They are pretty, and cool in the summers, and hide us from the Ring better than we ever did ourselves."

"Birnam Wood is coming to Dunsinane," Elizabeth murmured.

"How is this possible?" Teyla asked, ignoring Elizabeth.

Sobrina shrugged. "You shall hear all at the village. Tonight's dance is the retelling of the coming of the trees."

It was cool in the shade of the woods. Teyla found herself walking more slowly, gazing upward at the slowly swaying treetops. "They sound like the ocean," Elizabeth whispered to her, and she nodded. They did. All things ends, as did the strange wood, and they were in the Sobrina's village, Erdmore, which looked much as it had years ago.

"Teyla!" Several women called, hurrying toward her. She recognized Esla and Nessa as they swung her around, laughing and kissing her. "Welcome back, welcome back!" She hugged them tightly, filled with memories of long sunny days running, hiding and finding each other.

"I miss you all so much," she gasped, shocked at the depth of her feelings. She could see their faces from twenty years ago, when they'd been young girls playing here, superimposed over their current faces: sadder and more lined, but still smiling.

"We missed you, Tey," Esla said, holding her hands and gazing into her face. "I have a daughter named after you. I hope you will bless her."

"A daughter . . ." Teyla couldn't believe it. Esla had never liked boys. "How?"

Esla laughed. "The usual way, silly! In and out, in and out!" They all laughed, even Elizabeth.

"This is my friend, Elizabeth," Teyla said belatedly, drawing Elizabeth to them.

"Welcome!" Esla said, and Nessa nodded shyly. "We are so happy to meet you. Teyla never brought a friend before." Esla glanced slyly at Teyla, who could only smile at her old friend.

"Come," Sobrina said. "Let them settle and then we'll talk." She led the way to a low round tent, made of a fine material that let light in but not out. "You have not visited Luluthi before, Elizabeth, so you will not know that despite the warm days, it grows very cold at night. Please dress warmly." She left them standing at the opening of the tent.

They stood for a few seconds, and then Teyla pushed open the heavy flap and entered, holding the fabric so Elizabeth could follow.

"It's beautiful," Elizabeth said, and Teyla agreed. The tents when she was a child were not as light-filled as this, nor as insulated. There was a large mat rolled and tied, and piles of _cusha_ furs to keep them warm in the long night. They set down their packs, pulling out heavier sweaters. Elizabeth had a pale yellow scarf that she tied around her head and tossed the fringed ends over her shoulders. Teyla thought the color looked good on her, warming her pale skin and bringing out her eyes.

"Before we meet the others," she said, "should we review the situation?"

"There's no need," Elizabeth assured her. "We are _geyna_ , partners. If the Luluthi are satisfied by my behavior, they will recommend us to the Rucken, and we will be able to participate in the Ruckenwise. If not, then we think of something else."

Teyla nodded, and took Elizabeth's hand. " _Geyna_ are more than partners," she said hesitantly, not certain that Elizabeth had understood.

"Lovers," Elizabeth said, turning pink. "And something spiritual that I'm not sure I understand."

"Sometimes they are called bond-mates. _Geynos_ is an old word, related to another old word for woman. It is told that in the earliest days of the Wraith, they took only men, leaving the women to procreate and thus create more food for them. _Geynos_ exist on many worlds, usually hidden. Only on a few planets do they live the way they do here, openly. _Geynos_ usually choose not to have children, but those who do, the way Esla did, go into the cities, but they always return to their _geynos_."

"Is Nessa Esla's _geynos_?" Teyla nodded; wasn't it obvious to Elizabeth? The way they'd stood near each other, how Nessa had deferred to Esla. "Does Sobrina have a _geynos_?"

Teyla shook her head. "Many years ago, her _geynos_ Tamila died in childbirth. Their daughter is a grown woman now, living in Rucken. Sobrina has taken no other."

"Is that unusual?"

Teyla had to think a minute. Why would it be unusual? "Not very," she said cautiously.

Elizabeth shook her head. "I'm sorry, Teyla. I don't fully understand. I'll do the best I can and hope not to embarrass you."

"You will be fine, Elizabeth," Teyla said, touching Elizabeth's arm reassuringly. "Be yourself. Be my friend as you are in Atlantis. The others will read into our friendship what they expect to see."

Elizabeth smiled ruefully at her. "I'm sure you know best," she said, but Teyla could hear the doubt in her voice.

She took Elizabeth's hand. "Are you ready to meet the others?"

Elizabeth squeezed her hand and sighed. "For the good of the order." Teyla wondered what that meant; Elizabeth often said it at the end of her meetings, but she only smiled and led Elizabeth out into the compound.

The sky was beginning to cloud over, enormous thunderheads piling up, dark underneath but brilliant white against the blue sky above them. Teyla sniffed the air; it would rain later. Then Nessa stood and smiled shyly at her, so she led Elizabeth toward the group of women.


End file.
